


Give In To The Game

by waroftheposes



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Epilogue, Ronan's sexual attraction to cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15668409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waroftheposes/pseuds/waroftheposes
Summary: “Question,” Adams says, his voice soft. “Do you derive some sort of pleasure from barging into my place of employment and interrupting my work?”His words are reproving but he continues smiling and his thumb gently brushes against Ronan’s chin.“I derive pleasure from seeing you,” Ronan says, his gaze fixed on Adam's grease stained fingers.





	Give In To The Game

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this fic was "the one where Ronan has a car fetish."
> 
> The current title is from "Desire" by Years & Years

Ronan is lounging on Gansey’s bed and doing his best to ignore Gansey, Blue and Henry’s stupid ass conversation. He has no interest in whatever unimportant thing they are discussing at this very minute. But their collectively rising voice takes him out of his own thoughts.

“I just don’t understand how you can believe in a dead king buried in Virginia but you don’t think cryptids are real!”

Gansey’s face is determined and his voice, when he speaks, is reasonable. “Maybe,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “If there were ancient texts describing the Sasquatch I’d be more willing to believe it.”

“There are no ancient texts describing Owen Glendower,” Henry chimes in helpfully.

Blue’s eyes widen in delight and she points towards Henry, looking at Gansey expectantly. “In fact, there are no texts describing Glendower in Virginia.”

“I guess Gansey did hear a voice telling him about Glendower, ” Henry says, smiling knowingly at Blue.

“I did,” Gansey says, voice getting louder. “And the voice was right, so maybe go find a voice to tell me to look for the sasquatch and I’ll give it a shot.”

Blue sighs loudly and looks at the ceiling. “I’m not saying we have to look for it, I’m just saying what if we go to Oregon and we see the sasquatch, that’s it.”

It is at this moment that Ronan remembers the true topic of the conversation. Ronan’s three companions are talking about their upcoming North American trip, a thing Ronan does not care about. This is probably why he tuned them out in the first place.

“If we go to Oregon and spend days in the wilderness looking for the sasquatch, then we miss all the great attractions.”

“Like what?” Henry asks, “The hippies?”

Ronan is losing interest again. His mind searches frantically for something to entertain itself. His ipod is dead, his phone is hopefully lost for good, he can’t go home because he needs to pick up Adam from work. Adam is at work until eleven PM...

Ronan looks outside, but because it’s November, the lack of sunlight doesn’t indicate a late hour. He turns his attention back to the trio sitting in front of the model Henrietta.

“Gansey,” Ronan says because on any given day, he’d rather talk to Gansey over almost everyone else. “Time?”

Gansey looks down at his watch. “Nine twenty-five,” he responds.

“Jesus fucking Christ, thank fuck.” Relief and joy mingle together as it dawns on Ronan that he can at last leave Monmouth with a good excuse. Standing up, he checks Gansey’s bed for the keys to the BMW and once he’s found them, he heads to the door.

“Wait,” Gansey says. “Where are you going?”

“To get Parrish some dinner,” Ronan answers without turning. “Idiot lost track of time and forgot to pack something this morning.”

Actually what happened was that Adam had been brushing his teeth and Ronan had been kissing Adam’s shoulder and then his neck and then his cheek and then his mouth and really, it’s Adam’s own fault for letting Ronan distract him in the morning.

“Ok yeah, _Adam_ lost track of time.” Ronan can hear the sarcasm in Blue’s voice, but he doesn’t turn, doesn’t even care to respond to this kind of comment because he’s going to get Adam a burger and he’s going to take it to Boyd’s and Adam is going to be alone and Ronan is going to be alone with him after a whole fucking day.

The night has taken a turn for the better.

\---

 

The sign outside Boyd’s reads closed, but Ronan has come to the shop often enough to know that doesn’t mean no one is inside. Opening the door, he enters the dark garage, looking around for the one source of light that will signal Adam’s presence.

He finds Adam in the back. Bent under the hood of a truck in the dimly lit light of the mechanic shop, Adam looks beautiful. Ronan stops, taking a moment to look at him. He’s looking at a spot inside the truck, his gaze steady and focused. His body, curved against the frame of the truck and covered in overalls, is spattered with car oil, black grease against white skin and navy blue cloth. Looking at him for too long is like standing close to the sun.

It sets Ronan’s body on fire.

Ronan steps forward loudly, but Adam doesn’t look up, so he walks forward, swinging the bag of food as he goes.

“Parrish,” Ronan says, stopping a few feet from the truck. “You there?”

The glare of the single light bulb dances around Adam’s skin as he moves. Adam lifts his whole body out of the truck’s guts slowly, reaching out to get a rag and wiping his hands. Ronan watches the drag of the cloth against Adam’s long and delicate fingers and glances away.

“Alright,” Adam says, putting the rag away and watching Ronan expectantly. “You’re here.”

Ronan raises the bag with food and shakes it. “You forgot dinner.”

Adam smiles quickly, “ _I forgot_ it.”

His smile is contagious, because the next moment, Ronan is smiling too. “You did.”

“Ok,” Adam says and reaches for it, but Ronan raises it above his head. Adam tries again, jumping up, but Ronan keeps it out of his reach.

Giving up, Adam says. “Are you going to give me the food?”

Ronan shrugs. “Say please.”

Adam looks away, thoughtful. A moment later, he’s pushing Ronan with one hand and grabbing the paper bag with the other.

Ronan stumbles, letting go of the bag and balancing himself on a wooden pillar. Adam opens up the bag and looks inside. “Thanks,” he says.

Ronan leans against the pillar and watches Adam take out two fries. Adam looks up at him, fries held midway between the bag and his mouth. “What?” he asks, catching Ronan’s eyes.

“Eat later,” Ronan says, peeling himself off the pillar and invading Adam’s space. He watches Adam put the bag down, then pushes him against the side of the truck, putting his hands on either side of Adam’s head.

“You smell like gasoline,” he says before kissing Adam’s jaw softly.

“And I’m covered in grease,” Adam says, moving his head to the side. “Dark grease that stains clothes.”

“Yep,” Ronan says, distracted. He wants Adam to stop talking and kiss him, but Adam is looking at him sideways, pensive. Ronan repeats himself and kisses Adam’s lips.

“You’re a lunatic,” Adam says, but his arms snake around Ronan’s shoulders, hooking behind his neck.

Unperturbed by the comment, Ronan moves his lips to Adam’s cheek, his chin, the sharp points of his jaw. Adam laughs, a small breathy laugh, and it’s filled with so much joy that it makes Ronan’s heart hurt. He doesn’t stop, just continues kissing Adam’s face, under his jawline, behind his ear, his neck. Whenever his mouth makes contact with a piece of grease-lined skin, Ronan imagines an electric jolt running through his own body. He’s fairly certain its effects are imaginary because he can’t taste the grease, can barely smell it in a place like this. Still, his mind pretends.

“Ronan,” Adam says, and his voice, free of the laughter, is breathless.

Ronan stills, his eyes closed, his nose brushing Adam’s skin. He opens his mouth, letting his lips drag against Adam’s neck, but he doesn’t respond.

Adam repeats Ronan’s name and his hands, unhooking from Ronan’s neck, move forward to cup his face.

Ronan allows Adam to raise his head, only opening his eyes when Adam releases it.

Adam is smiling as he raises two fingers and rests them against Ronan’s lips.

“Two things,” he says, his voice soft. “Do you derive some sort of pleasure from barging into my place of employment and interrupting my work?”

His words are reproving but he continues smiling and his thumb gently brushes against Ronan’s chin.

Ronan lifts his head, biting the end of one of Adam’s fingers. He wants to lick it, to see Adam’s reaction to that, to see if there’s any car grease left on it. Adam’s fingers themselves are enough to set his heart beating on any day. Having them casually resting against his lips might cause his heart to beat itself into oblivion.

“Ronan?” Adam cocks his head and he moves his hand away.

Ronan watches it go. “What?”

“Well?” Adam asks expectantly.

“I derive pleasure from seeing you,” Ronan says, looking at him from under his lashes.

Adam laughs, the same quiet and beautiful laugh. “You’re full of shit.”

Ronan moves forward, pressing Adam against the truck again. His hands fall to Adam’s waist. “Am I?” he asks, lowering his head and letting his nose touch Adam’s.

“You are,” Adam responds, but his voice is a whisper and his head is tilted up towards Ronan’s. “We both know why you’re here right now.”

“To see you,” Ronan says immediately.

“To see me before I have the chance to wash the car smells off,” Adam finishes.

“To see you and bring you dinner,” Ronan says. “I don’t give a fuck what you smell like.”

Adam narrows his eyes, regarding Ronan for a few moments before sighing and pushing on his chest with both hands. Ronan steps backwards rather unwillingly, but he gives Adam the space he is asking for.

“I guess my second thing is pointless then,” Adam says, turning his head towards the small wall clock hanging over the office door. One of his hands is still lingering on Ronan’s chest and after reading the clock, Adam moves it up to hook around Ronan’s neck.

“I do have to finish work on this truck before eleven,” Adam says sighing. He straightens himself and kisses Ronan on the cheek. “Wait up for me?”

Ronan knows when he is being dismissed. He nods, grip tightening on Adam’s waist for a moment, then he lets go.

“I’ll keep your attic warm,” he says, “Eat your food.” And before Adam has a chance to protests, he’s left the garage.

\---

Ronan waits at St. Agnes until eleven PM before going to pick Adam up. Adam looks surprised to see Ronan, but he puts his bike in the back of the BMW.

“How did you know I didn’t bring my car?” He asks, his voice gruff and slow.

Ronan glances at him quickly before shifting gears and getting on the road. “Your shitbox was parked outside of St. Agnes.”

Adam hums, eyes closed, head resting against the passenger side window.

“Hey,” Ronan says softly, afraid that Adam has already fallen asleep. “We’re going home ok? I brought your homework.”

Adam mumbles back an assent and Ronan drives towards the Barns.

Adam has fallen asleep once they reach the Barns, and Ronan half carries and half walks him up to bed. There’s no question of him taking a shower. That night, Ronan falls asleep with Adam tucked under his chin and the smell of gasoline in his nose.

\---

Ronan is holding a mug of hot chocolate in his hand, watching Henry, Blue and Opal attack Gansey with snowballs, when he feels a hand slip into his. A moment later, he feels Adam resting his head against his shoulder. Ronan turns his head slightly, then rests it on top of Adam’s.

“Opal was supposed to be on Gansey’s team.” Ronan says after a few moments. “They asked me to join.”

“And you said no?” Adam asks, incredulous. “Why?”

“Waiting for you,” Ronan answers. He’d been wanting to wait here just as long as it took Adam to show up and then do whatever the hell it was that Adam wanted to do. “Do you want to join them?”

Adam watches their friends and Opal running around the Barns’ front yard. Lifting his head from Ronan’s shoulder, he shakes it. “I was thinking,” he begins, then stops, closing his eyes. He opens his eyes again a moment later. “I have my coveralls with me from last night, do you want me to fix the tractor that’s in that barn.” Adam points to a snow covered barn in the distance, and Ronan squints to see it.

“Now?”

Adam nods.

“Dude,” Ronan says. “It’s your day off.”

“So?”

“So?” Ronan repeats. “You’re supposed to spend it with me.” Ronan takes a moment and then points towards Gansey, Blue, Henry and Opal. “And them.”

Adam glances at them, then back at Ronan. “You can come with?”

“What about them?”

Adam shrugs. “They’re having fun.”

Mild exasperation hits Ronan as Adam takes the mug from his hands and brings it up to his face. “It’s your day off, I don’t want you wasting it on a stupid tractor.”

Adam puts his lips to the rim of the mug and sips the liquid lightly. “I want to.”

“Why?”

Another shrug, followed by Adam handing the mug back to Ronan. “So do you want me to get my work clothes or…?”

Ronan sighs as he takes the mug. “If that’s what you want.”

Adam smiles warmly and goes inside to change. When he returns, he’s wearing his work coveralls, which, Ronan marks with curiosity, he has not yet put in the wash. Ronan follows Adam to the barn with the malfunctioning tractor inside, waving at Gansey, Blue and Henry as he passes them.

The barn is lit by several firefly lights. Once inside, Adam walks towards the green tractor, asking Ronan if he has tools.

“What kind?”

“The tractor fixing kind,” Adam says. “A jack, maybe. Some big wrenches?”

Ronan points to the wall at the back of the barn, and then, when Adam continues to look at him expectantly, walks there to bring over his dad’s tool box.

Adam takes the tool box, placing it on the ground, and opens the tractor hood. “What did you say was wrong with it?”

“It’ll start,” Ronan says, walking forward to join Adam. This close to him, Ronan can smell last night’s truck on his clothes. “But it won’t turn on.”

Adam considers the tractor. “Was it smoking a lot before it stopped working?”

Ronan shrugs. “I don’t know. I literally saw it in here and tried to turn it on and it didn’t work so I left.”

“So, it never worked?” Adam asks. Already, he’s turning from the hood and towards the tool box.

“I don’t know, it probably worked at some point,” Ronan replies. He watches Adam sort through the tools, the lights from the fireflies flickering across his face, his finger hovering over a few wrenches before selecting a large one. He stands up again, bending under the hood.

“It’s probably the fuel tank,” Adam tells Ronan. “But I’m gonna check the engine first.”

Ronan nods, though Adam can’t see it. He watches curiously as Adam works. He thinks he should be more curious about the details of Adam’s work, but he finds himself drawn to Adam instead of the machine.

Adam’s long are fingers gripping the wrench. His chest is pressed against the tractor’s gut and his eyes are focused on the engine. There are some tubes sticking up, rubbing against Adam’s exposed skin, and when he moves slightly, Ronan can see that they’ve left black marks where they touched Adam’s neck. Ronan wants to put his mouth where the tubes were a moment ago, to taste the grease mixed with Adam’s sweat, to smell the oil on Adam’s skin.

“Ronan?” Adam says pulling himself up. “I don’t think I can fix this tractor.” He beckons Ronan forward, and Ronan notes that his hands are smeared with dark grease as well.

“I think your dad dreamt this one up,” Adam says, still looking at the tractor’s engine. “Come here, you see that empty space?” His long, smudged fingers are pointing at a place in the depths of the tractor. Ronan looks at them instead of the empty space, and nods. “It’s missing gears, I don’t know if it ever ran. Maybe it didn’t.” Adam looks up from the tractor, moving his hand to rest his palm against Ronan’s cheek. “Sorry.”

Ronan turns his head, kissing Adam’s palm softly. “It’s ok,” he says. “You were the one that wanted to fix the goddamned thing anyways.”

“Yeah I guess.” Adam is looking at him thoughtfully again and after a moment, starts to pull his hand away from Ronan’s face. Ronan grabs Adam’s hand with his own, and brings it to his lips again.

“Ronan,” Adam says quietly.

“Adam,” Ronan responds, dropping Adam’s hand and stepping further into his space.

“You have guests,” Adam says, looking at the barn door.

“I do,” Ronan says. He rests his hands on Adam’s shoulders. “They’re outside and we’re inside and there’s a closed door between us.” He advances further into Adam’s space, pushing him against the tractor, and then kisses him.

There’s no surprise in Adam’s response, only want. Ronan feels Adam’s hard chest against his own, his mouth demanding beneath Ronan’s. He presses even closer, moving his hands from Adam’s shoulders to his hair, feeling the kiss in his fingers, in his toes. He burns everywhere, yearning so badly, a mantra going through his mind.

_More, more, more._

He trails his fingers down Adam’s body, letting them rest on his waist. Adam breaks away from the kiss and Ronan can feel his chest rising and falling. He bends his head and kisses Adam’s neck where the grease from the pipes rubbed against it.

Adam gasps, a soft exhale that sends jolts through Ronan’s body. He feels Adam’s hands gripping his back, his nails digging into Ronan’s shirt. Ronan opens his mouth, letting his teeth drag against Adam’s skin and the grease from the tractor, before biting at the place where his neck meets his shoulder.

Adam gasps again, louder, moving his hands from Ronan’s back to grip his face. Ronan lets Adam raise his face and closes his eyes when Adam brings their faces so close together that their noses touch.

“We should go,” Adam whispers against his lips.

Ronan pushes forward and kisses him again, ignoring his words in favor of the kiss. He moves his hands further down Adam’s body, gripping his thighs and raising them up to hook around his own waist. Adam doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t break the kiss, not even when Ronan’s hands move from his thighs to grip his hips.

He just kisses Ronan, hard and demanding, and he smells like gasoline and cars and Adam and Ronan can’t take it. He still wants _more._

There’s a shout, a thud, and before Ronan has understood what those sounds mean, the door to the barn opens.

Startled, Ronan turns his head to see Opal run into the barn, followed by Gansey, then Blue and Henry. He lets go of Adam’s hips, feels Adam drop his legs to the ground and bring his hands to Ronan’s chest.

Gansey stops when he sees Ronan and Adam, bodies pressed against the broken tractor. His face moves through a variety of emotions before freezing, and Ronan would laugh if he weren’t so annoyed that they had barged in. Blue and Henry stop too, the former’s eyes going wide with delight while the latter’s mouth curls with mischief.

It feels as if they’re all frozen. For what feels like hours, no one speaks. Then, someone coughs. It’s probably Gansey, though Ronan didn’t see him do it because he was too busy glaring at Blue and Henry.

The cough sets Adam in motion, and he pushes on Ronan’s chest and straightens himself.

It sets Henry and Blue in motion too, and they both, simultaneously begin laughing. Ronan opens his mouth to say something distasteful, but Adam silences him with a gentle hand.

“Tired of playing in the snow?” His question is aimed at Gansey, who seems to have gotten over his embarrassment.

“No,” Gansey responds cheerfully. “Opal ran this way.”

Adam looks around, presumably for Opal, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“We can leave if you’re busy,” Gansey says, eyes darting suggestively between Adam and Ronan, and Ronan silently adds Gansey to his shit list.

Blue and Henry snort.

Ronan can see Adam’s mouth thin. He’s not angry necessarily, but he’s not happy either. “No, the tractor is pretty much not salvageable, so we’re free.”

Ronan opens his mouth to protest this statement, but it's pretty much true. Gansey, Blue, and Henry are his guests for the day, and he can't just abandon them to make out with Adam. Well, he can abandon his friends to make-out with Adam, but he won’t. It’s not what his mother would do. And so, disappointed, Ronan closes his mouth.

“Wanna come throw snowballs at Blue and Henry with me?” Gansey asks Adam.

Ronan watches Adam glance at Blue and Henry, take in their smug faces, and nod his assent. Gansey smiles and holds out his fist for Adam to bump.

“I’ll be on your team too,” Ronan says to Gansey and walks outside to make the biggest snowball he can to throw at Henry Cheng’s stupid head.

Later, after everyone has left, Ronan goes in search of Adam, only to find that he’s in the shower, washing off the grease from the tractor and the sweat from the snowball fight. When they fall into bed, too exhausted to do anything but tangle their limbs together, Ronan notes with disappointment that Adam’s skin has lost the scent of the tractor.

\--

A week later, they’re driving to DC for Thanksgiving break when the Pig stops working.

Ordinarily this would be a cause for concern and swearing and general unhappiness, but it had stopped just outside of Gansey’s parents’ home. Ronan and Henry and Gansey had been able to push the goddamned car inside the Ganseys’ garage while Adam steered and Blue gave directions.

Anyways, the Pig’s refusal to work isn’t even bothering Gansey. When asked by Henry what he’d do when they have to return home Gansey had shrugged and said he’d try to find a mechanic before they had to leave.

But he’s not bothered, and Blue and Henry are not bothered. Gansey’s parents aren’t bothered. Ronan sure as fuck isn’t bothered.

And yet, for some reason, Adam is spending the evening in the Ganseys’ garage, his head bent under the hood of the Camaro. _“We wouldn’t have to worry if I fixed it,_ ” was all the explanation he’d offered Ronan before taking off towards the garage.Ronan is with him, because he’d rather be here with Adam than anywhere else, even when Adam is being vague and cryptic about why he’s spending his vacation trying to fix the Pig.

At least the fucking garage is heated.

“Ronan.” Adam is gesturing at him, taking a step back from the car. “Can you try the ignition for me please.”

Ronan glares at him, “No.”

“ _Ronan._ ” Adam’s voice is not a plea, nor does it hold any exasperation. Yet it forces Ronan forward.

“Fine.”

Ronan opens the car door, and sits in the driver’s seat. The key is in the ignition. Ronan turns it.

Nothing.

Outside the Pig, Adam sighs.

“You know,” Ronan says, exiting the car. “You can just wait until the mechanic looks at it tomorrow.”

“I’m a mechanic,” Adam answers, defensive. He leans his head down, inspecting something. Then he takes the dipstick out of the engine, and checks the oil. When he puts it back in, Ronan spies some oil left over on his fingers.

“It’s not the oil,” Adam says, rubbing his hand against his cheek. Ronan doesn’t know why Adam needs to do it, but he’s thankful because there’s now smudges of oil on Adam’s cheek.

“Maybe it ran out of gas,” Ronan says, walking up to him. He leans against the Pig’s hood and closes it.

Adam frowns. “The gas gage wasn’t even close to empty.”

“Yeah,” Ronan says. “But this car is a piece of shit.”

Adam shakes his head. “Must be something else.”

He turns back to the car, and Ronan swears, exasperated. In any other circumstance, he would be overjoyed that Adam was working on a car. He would stand by to watch Adam’s fingers as they skipped across the engine. He would watch where Adam’s fingers became stained, where his cheeks rubbed against hood prop. But Adam is on break, and he shouldn’t be working on cars on his break. This is the second time Adam has taken time out of his vacation to work on a car and Ronan doesn’t understand why and he doesn’t like it.

Even if the sight of Adam working on a car does dangerous things to his heart.

“Why are you doing this?” Ronan asks Adam.

“Doing what?”

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me Parrish. This is your goddamned job, why are you spending your break doing the thing you do on a regular day?”

“You dreamt this car,” Adam says after a moment, logically. “I don’t want a mechanic looking at it.”

“Excuse me?” Ronan is offended. “I dreamt this car exactly the way it’s supposed to be. It’s just as shitty as the old non-magical Camaro, the mechanic would find nothing out of the ordinary except for how shitty it is.”

Adam hums, but it’s not an agreeing hum.

“They wouldn’t!” Ronan says, even more alarmed. “And you know this. So, again, why are you doing this?”

Adam shrugs, and Ronan can see the lie before it leaves Adam’s mouth. “I was bored.”

“Come the fuck on, Parrish,” Ronan says. “Don’t lie to me.”

Adam closes his eyes, straightening his body and leaning against the Pig’s hood. When he opens them, he looks determined. “I weighed my options and decided that this was the best use of my time for the evening.”

“Why?”

“Because it would help me with a research project,” Adam answers.

Ronan leans against the Pig, next to Adam. “Your research project about cars?”

“No,” Adam responds. “My research project about you.”

Surprised, Ronan doesn’t say anything, and Adam continues. “But I’ve only tested the theory once since I noticed it, and once is not enough evidence to draw a conclusion.”

“Why are you researching me,” Ronan asks confused.

“Because.” Adam is smiling. “You have a thing.”

“What thing?”

“A thing that turns you on.” Adam raises his hands, which are stained with the engine oil. Ronan watches his fingers, wondering how strongly they smell of the oil.

“Ronan?” Adam asks.

“You turn me on,” Ronan says, eyes still on Adam’s fingers.

“No,” Adam says, placing his thumb gently against Ronan’s lips. “Cars turn you on.” He moves his thumb away, much to Ronan’s disappointment, to cup Ronan’s cheek with his hand, then stands upright to kiss Ronan lightly. “Gasoline turns you on. Engine oil turns you on. The smell of a garage turns you on.” Adam’s voice is low, a whisper, a tease. “You lose your shit when I’m working on a car,” he says in Ronan’s ear. “Or at least,” he continues moving away. “I’m pretty sure you do, I need to do further research.”

His words are the gasoline and his body is the spark and Ronan is on fire. He follows Adam as he moves away, bringing their bodies back together. “I think you’re hot,” he says, mouth centimeters from Adam’s. Adam’s eyes flutter shut. “I think you’re hotter when you smell like gasoline,” he says, and kisses Adam once, quickly. When he pulls away, Adam chases his lips.

“I know,” Adam says, eyes on Ronan’s lips, smiling.

“You couldn’t just ask?”

Adam shrugs. “The research was fun.”

“You fucking nerd,” Ronan says fondly and kisses Adam again.

This time, when he hooks Adam’s legs around his waist, there’s no interruption, no Gansey or Blue or Henry barging in uninvited, no work that Adam needs to get back to. It’s just the two of them pressed against the Pig, Adam’s fingers smudged and dirty, his body moving with Ronan’s. This time, when Ronan feels that all consuming want, there is no stopping. He kisses Adam’s lips, his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. He brings Adam’s smudgy fingers to his mouth, kisses them one by one.

“You have a hand problem too,” Adam says, breathless. “But I knew that one already.”

“I have a you problem,” Ronan says, kissing Adam’s palm, then his wrist. “I don’t think I’d care much if Cheng was covered in gasoline.”

Adam laughs. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me, Lynch.”

“Yeah?” Ronan asks, resting his forehead against Adam’s.

“Yeah.” Adam’s smile is soft, it’s beautiful, it’s everything.

Ronan doesn’t know what to do with it, he feels so happy he wants to scream.

“Maybe you could set Cheng on fire,” Adam says.

Ronan laughs. “Maybe you could stop talking about Cheng.”

“You’re right, it’s ruining the mood.” Adam’s hands grip the back of Ronan’s head and he tilts his chin forward so he can kiss Ronan again.

Later that night, when they’re attempting to sleep together in one of Gansey’s guest rooms, Ronan remembers something.

“When did you realize I had a car thing?”

Adam shifts to face him. “I mean I always kind of knew. But remember last week, when you brought me dinner at Boyd’s?”

Ronan nods.

“You were only kissing the parts of my body that had some kind of grease or oil on it, and when I told you I was covered in it, you kissed me harder. I thought I could test it out.”

Ronan laughs. “So the tractor…?”

“Was me testing it out.”

“And today was also you testing?”

Adam nods, and Ronan catches the movement of his head in the darkness. “You have to perform more than one experiment to see if your hypothesis is correct.”

Ronan laughs again. “So fucking correct,” he says and brings Adam’s fingers to his mouth again.

“I know,” Adam says. “I like it.”

  
“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like that you like it so much,” Adam says. “I like that there’s something that makes you want me even more.”

Ronan pulls Adam to him and kisses his forehead. “I always fucking want you, idiot,” he says softly.

Adam rests his forehead against Ronan’s chest. “Sometimes more than others.”

“Yes.”

They sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me your thoughts. Thanks to my best beta also for reading this fic and telling me it's not shit. 
> 
> Couple of notes:
> 
> 1\. I started writing this fic before the Opal story, and I refuse to believe that Adam doesn't spend ANY nights at the Barns. I refuse.
> 
> 2\. I wrote this fic because I feel like we don't talk about Ronan "thinks the taste of gasoline is sexy" Lynch enough. 
> 
> 3\. Sorry about the complete lack of knowledge about cars and their insides. Would you believe my father was a mechanic from the age of 7 to 18? Man can fix most issues with a car. I know literally nothing about cars. 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://waroftheposes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
